


Best Girl

by uchiharvno



Series: coffee beans [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, F/M, Modern Royalty, Strippers & Strip Clubs, commission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26642680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uchiharvno/pseuds/uchiharvno
Summary: Sylvain takes Dimitri to a strip club.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Series: coffee beans [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1606930
Comments: 2
Kudos: 70





	Best Girl

**Author's Note:**

> For Anonymous.
> 
> commission prompt: sfw meet-cute, but it's a stripper au

**Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd** , he could see it now; his name imposed on the front page of the tabloids along with low-quality photos of him entering and exiting the strip club Sylvain had dragged him to. He could already see it, the spectacle that breakfast would be the following morning. He could already hear his father’s scolding as if he were already there, amid the loud, heavy bass playing in the club. 

“Don’t you already have a girlfriend, Sylvain?” Felix points out in exasperation as he looked boredly at the half-naked women dancing on the stage right in front of them. Surely, he’s not such a bastard that he would continue frequenting these clubs when he’s already in a committed relationship. 

“Yeah, she’s right there!” the bastard answers proudly. He points to a girl wearing black leather lingerie, long cotton candy pink hair tied up in twintails, grinding on Claude von Riegan’s lap. Sylvain sighs dreamily. “Look at her go…” 

Felix rolls his eyes, sinking miserably into his seat. “I need a drink.”

“Yes!” he agrees with enthusiasm. “Shots!”

Felix groans and Dimitri is only about to protest–something about needing to get up early for class tomorrow–when Sylvain slaps a hand on his shoulder. Out of nowhere, a woman comes with three shots of tequila and the crown prince goes rigid when her arm so much as brushes against him when she sets their order in front of them. 

Sylvain raised his shot glass, as if in a toast. “Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd,” he starts, back straight and voice deep in an imitation of a formal ceremony. “You came in here a green, starry-eyed boy and you will come out… a  _ man _ !” 

He beams at his two friends, looking at them expectantly. But Dimitri only glares, utterly speechless, and Felix’s stare remains deadpan and unamused. Nonetheless, he picks up a shot glass and pushes the other into the blond’s hand. “Just take the shot so we can leave,” he mutters, before knocking the drink back unceremoniously. 

“Oh,  _ we’re  _ leaving,” Sylvain agrees. “But you, my friend–” he points to his future king, “you have somewhere to be!”

✘✘✘

Dimitri has never been to a strip club. 

This isn’t him. This isn’t his scene–the neon lights, the poles, the women and the lingerie, the flying bills, the loud music, the stench of liquor and cigar, the hedonism and debauchery. This is Sylvain’s natural ecosystem, not his. But that’s exactly why he’s here, isn’t it? In a lavish private room in the higher floors of Seiros. Because Sylvain wants to give the virtuous prince a taste of what he’s missing. 

But he does the complete opposite of what’s been asked of him. Instead of relaxing and letting himself have a good time, he paces the room anxiously, still alone as he waits for the one they called Fellstar.  _ Seiros’s best girl _ , Sylvain had said. And to his surprise, even Felix agreed. 

He’s snapped out of this thoughts as the door finally opens and who he could only guess is Fellstar enters the room. He abruptly halts in his pacing and all his worries disappear, just like that. 

Dimitri’s mouth runs dry as he drinks her in, starting with the high heels clicking against the floor as she makes her way across the room. Blue eyes run up long, slender legs to a well-rounded butt covered by black panties that hung too low on her hips, a leather belt strapped across her toned stomach. He watches as a pink tassel swings almost hypnotically below full breasts, which are practically spilling out of her matching black bra. A black cape lined with gold drapes over one shoulder, clasped around her neck like a choker, along with a gold chain with a pointed pendant that dips into her cleavage.

Her body is… a  _ dream _ . Yet that’s not what knocks him back into his seat and hard onto his ass. What makes his knees weak is the subtle fierceness on her otherwise impassive face and her eyes, as she holds his gaze, captivating and penetrative, like she could see right through him.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Your Highness,” she says, and the sound of her voice sends shivers down his spine. 

“I, uh… not at all…” He is looking,  _ respectfully _ .

Fellstar’s fingers wrap around the pole. The lights dim. The music starts. And there’s a wild, tingling sensation in his lower stomach and he aches to touch the place between his legs just to adjust his pants so it doesn’t feel so fucking tight around his crotch. 

She’s not like the other girls–as phony as that sounds. She doesn’t have to walk a certain way or swing her hips and pump her chest out exaggeratedly to look sexy. She is effortless in her movements, seductive without trying. She  _ exudes  _ sensuality, she  _ owns  _ this stage.

The song is slow and sensual, the beat loud and the bass heavy, and she sways along to it. Slowly, at first, warming up. Then the beat accelerates and the next thing he knows, her feet are no longer touching the ground.

She’s… weightless. Her movement is light and fluid, graceful. His eyes follow her every move; the swing of her hips, the circling motions of her ankles, the curl of her wrists, her flat stomach tightening, her thighs spreading wide open. The music picks up and she spins, on the pole and in the air, the way a ballerina would pirouette on smooth floors, her dark hair all around her in a flurry. 

She looks so small, so delicate, but he knows this takes strength. Especially now that she holds herself upside down on the pole, her legs open in a perfect split, parallel to the ground. He’s at the edge of his seat now, and her hair dangles and touches the floor and her eyes bore into his from her upside down perch. He’s completely entranced by this woman.

Dimitri exhales sharply. She touches herself, fingers sliding across skin and he wants nothing but to be the one touching her. Feeling her muscles flex under his palm, feel the strength of her thighs wrapped around him, grip her soft hair in his hands… he shakes his head, shaking lewd thoughts from his mind. 

The first song ends before he knows it and as the music fades, she lithely falls to her knees. With catlike grace, Fellstar crawls towards him until she’s between his knees. She holds her hand out, palm up, and without thinking he takes it, only for her to fold four of his fingers. His breath hitches as she puts his index finger into her mouth, lips fastening around his knuckle and tongue swirling around the digit as she takes him all the way to the back of her throat. His cock twitches in his pants.

She grins devilishly as she pulls his finger out of her mouth, a string of saliva still connecting them. He’s completely flustered and speechless when she climbs onto his lap, and he finds himself at face-level with her chest. “Do you want to touch me?” she asks. He chokes. “Don’t be shy. Your good friend paid a lot just so you could.”

✘✘✘

Ingrid had been furious with Sylvain for taking him to a strip club and she’d been unhappy with Felix for doing nothing to stop it. Dimitri had anxiously sifted through newspapers and tabloids the next morning, but thankfully, no spectacle was made out of him. Either way, he would never let Sylvain know that he’d had a good night. 

And so he has put that night out of his mind–as best as he could, at least. 

And it’s exactly two weeks later that he sees Fellstar again. In a café just outside of Garreg Mach University, escorted by Dedue to Dimitri’s table by the window. She’s fully-clothed this time, dressed in a black turtleneck and ripped jeans, her hair tied up in a messy ponytail.  _ She’s  _ his new tutor. 

He knows that he’s making a dumb face as she slides into the booth across from him, smiling politely like it’s the first time she’s meeting him. Then he realizes that she doesn’t remember him at all. He isn’t the least bit surprised by this, of course. She probably encounters dozens of men at work and she couldn’t possibly remember all of her clients. Still, it stings a little. 

Especially when the memory of her mouth, hovering over his and growing closer, plays so vividly in his head. He had been a scant centimeter away from tasting her lips when the song ended and she instantly got off his lap, strutted away from him and bid him a goodnight with a teasing smile just as she walked out the door. She’d left him breathless, braindead, and painfully hard. 

Her name is Byleth, Dimitri learns now. She’s a year his senior, she likes her coffee with a lot of cream and little sugar, she hates maths but somehow she’s really good at Calculus, and her handwriting is really pretty. She’s smart and unintentionally funny, and he’s just so charmed by her that he could sit here for hours just listening to her rambling about numbers and formulas. 

“I don’t know if you remember me,” he finally speaks up as their introductory session comes to an end. He cups the nape of his neck, the skin warm from embarrassment. “But–”

“Of course, I remember you,” she cuts him off sharply. She rolls her eyes in exasperation even as she pointedly avoids looking at him by busying herself with tucking her things back into her book bag. “You don’t just forget a  _ prince  _ you gave a lap dance to.”

“Oh. I, um… you, uh…” Dimitri furrows his brows, mentally berating himself. He takes a quick sip of his now-cold coffee and clears his throat. He looks up at her and finds her eyes trained on her own cup of coffee, looking like she wants to be swallowed up by the ground, as well. “You’re… an excellent dancer,” he says sincerely. 

Her brows shoot up in surprise, eyes widening at the compliment. Her cheeks grow pink and she meets his eyes bashfully. “I study dance,” she says with a small, shy, but self-satisfied smile on her lips. 

He learns that she works at Seiros to pay for her studies and life in the city. But it’s not just the money; it had given her an opportunity to hone her talent and put her skills to the test, a means to get to know herself better, to reconcile her art with her sexuality. And he remembers all of it, the way she danced with the grace and precision of a ballerina and the passion and buzzing energy of a contemporary dancer.

“Maybe,” Byleth blushes deeper, “if you get all A’s in your classes this semester, I could… show you some of my other moves.” 

_ Dimitri’s motivation has maxed out. _


End file.
